


That's What You Get

by TricksterMika



Category: Pokemon
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterMika/pseuds/TricksterMika
Summary: When 24 year-olds Gold and Silver end up having a drunken one-night stand, they leave thinking that they'll never meet each other again. When they are once again brought together under the pretense that they should be friends, what are they to do?





	1. Fighting with your girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

> AN- And I've finally gotten around to writing this! I've been planning to for about… I don't know… four or five months? Yeah… ANYWAYS! I have high hopes for this fic. Really, I do. Also, I intend to have lots of fun writing it, cause it's PreciousMetalshipping, which I've been dying to write (it's my OTP, after all!). There's not much you all need to know beforehand, other than the fact that the story title and the chapter titles combine. For instance, for this chapter, it'd become That's What You Get (fic title) for Fighting With Your Girlfriend (chap. title). Just thought I'd tell ya how it works now, so you're not all, "Uh, your chapter titles make NO SENSE!!!" Tell me something like that in a review, you better expect a properly sarcastic response. You have been warned. Enjoy~!
> 
> Disclaimer: If I owned PokeSpe, PreciousMetalshipping would be canon, and there would be *ahem* scenes, so clearly I own nothing.
> 
> Warning: Even though the final pairing is, without a doubt, G/S (or S/G, I'm, I'm still indecisive…) there is still a large quantity of MangaQuestshipping going on, along with lots of other heterosexual pairings. If you cannot stand any straight couplings, click the back button, please. ALSO: The story is told from Gold's POV, so expect a bit of offensive and sexist remarks. Please don't take offense at them. I was just trying to write as I thought Gold would speak.

I like to consider myself a simple guy. I am woken up every morning at eleven by my girlfriend Crystal, head off to work as a copper (which is ironic, considering I used to be one of the guys on the run from said coppers), head home to my apartment (which, while not technically shared, is more often than not occupied by myself and another. Take a guess at who), and proceed to make crazy monkey love with the aforementioned girlfriend, who, while not really liking the "ridiculous way I refer to making love", is usually quite satisfied by the time I'm done with her. Then I go to sleep, sated and cheery.

That's my day in a nutshell.

Now don't get me wrong, Crys and I may sound like a pretty good couple, but we've had our fair share of fights- by which I mean, we fight like cats and dogs. We just end up going back to each other and having very gratifying makeup sex after a while.

See, despite what many think, we really do care about each other (hell, every once in a blue moon, I can even honestly admit to loving her), so, no matter how often we fight, we always get back together.

What irritates me is that we're always fighting about the same thing. She insists that the problem is my "infidelity", while I've tried to tell her repeatedly that it's just that she's so insecure.

Her anxiety goes all the way back to her childhood, see. When she was about eight, her dad up and left. Just plain hit the road, leaving her and her mom in pieces. Her mom confessed later that her father had left them for another woman, and it kinda ended up traumatizing poor Crys. Now, she's constantly afraid that I'll leave her like that, too. I get that. I do.

But she gets so upset just from me looking at other women. Just looking! What she doesn't seem to understand it that that's all I've ever done, is look.

I'm a man. When I see a pretty girl, I'm gonna look. There's no helping that. But for all the time we've been dating now (which is about… five years now, I think. Wow. Has it really been that long?), I've used tons of willpower to make sure I kept my hands to myself. I've employed to rule of look, don't touch when it comes to other women.

I've tried to explain that I'm actually holding myself back for her, but she never listens. Take last night, for example. We went out to this awesome new bar known as the Electric Shock. It's the "hip" place to be currently, but the owner is some weirdo who once served in the army. Popular belief says he lost his mind while in the army.

Anyway.

Crys and I were having a good time, drinking and dancing, the works. Then in walks this absolutely gorgeous female. Tall, slender, chesty, nice ass, pouty lips that looked oh-so-kissable. It's not like I was the only guy looking at her. The moment she walked in, every guy was focused on her. I was, in fact, one of the few that didn't immediately throw myself at her feet. Instead, I stayed put right beside my girlfriend, who didn't seem to care about how hard I was trying to control myself. She got upset about my gawking at her, as if all the other guys throwing themselves at her was an equivalent to my behavior.

So, yeah, that made me a bit mad, and we kind of ended up shouting at each other. If she hadn't picked the next moment to storm out of the bar in a huff, Crys and I probably would've been thrown out on our asses for "disturbing the peace".

Whatever.

The point is, despite contrary belief, I try my best to be a good, loyal boyfriend.

…Which is why, when I woke up the following morning having no clue where I was only to find a naked redhead in bed beside me, I was much displeased.


	2. For stalling to long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- And I'm back! Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for the wait.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to TheLizardWriter! Please support and read their work it's so amazingly good! (Better then good!)
> 
> (#THEPOKESGIVEMELIFE)

Disclaimer: *rolls eyes* Haven't we already established this?

Warning: This chapter contains a semi-thorough description of the male anatomy. It's nothing too much, but… just thought I'd warn ya (hey, it is rated "M"…). Also, there is cursing (again, the rating…).

 

I'll admit: for about five minutes upon waking, I did nothing but stare at the person beside me, not bothering to resist the temptation to run my hands through her hair- it was soft and quite silky. My brain couldn't comprehend how I'd gone from drinking at the bar to waking up god-knows-where with a cute girl (and she's definitely a girl, because, no matter how drunk I may have gotten, there's no way I'd take another guy to bed) nestled beside me, both of us completely bare.

Oh, wait. Drinking. Duh.

Anyways, this is definitely a problem. A big problem. A muy grande problemo!

All Spanish aside, I've gotta get out of here. Who knows what this broad will do when she wakes up? What if she's, like, a black belt in karate? I'd rather leave with my ass intact, thank you.

And if there were ever a good opportunity to do so, it would be right now.

Slowly, I start squirming away from her, edging closer to my end of the bed. I'm just about to begin pulling the covers off, when a hand clamps over my wrist tightly.

I freeze, and just barely resist the sudden temptation to scream like a little girl. Her hands are rough and calloused, just like a fighter's would be (the exact opposite of her hair). Dear God, she's gonna wake up and I'll die.

In my mind's eye, I could see her waking up to find a stranger in her bed, and, of course, she'll be some kind of kick-ass fighter. I'll then proceed to get my butt thoroughly whooped.

This thought in mind, I turn around at such a pace that a snail could've lapped me. Oh, lord. My life practically flashed before my eyes… for nothing.

The redhead was still snoozing away peacefully, showing no signs of awareness whatsoever.

I heaved a sigh of relief, and took a few tentative tugs at my wrist. Unconscious she may be, but easy to escape from she was not. All my attempts did was make her grip tighten, almost to the point of pain. I was now effectively handcuffed to her.

I sighed and scooted back into the bed just a bit, knowing I wasn't going anywhere.

There goes my escape plan.

Seemingly sensing that my presence had returned, the girl huddled closer towards the warmth to the point where she was pressed up against my back.

Once again, I froze.

And there goes all my pride and dignity.

In addition to warm breath on my neck, I could feel a very male organ pressed against my legs.

I resisted the urge to cuss- loudly, that is. A few curses escaped my clenched teeth unbidden, but they were quiet enough that I didn't worry too much about waking my, uh, companion.

My very male companion.

Yep.

Apparently, gender preferences and the fact that I have a girlfriend meant nothing to my alcohol-muddled brain last night, as here I've found myself in bed with another. And not just any other. An effing guy!

A guy. Complete with one X chromosome, one Y chromosome, two rough and calloused hands, girly hair, a Moby Dick, and, uh… other things. You know, the dangly bits.

At least, that's what I'm assuming. I'm sure as hell not looking.

All these thoughts form a figurative club, which hits me over the head with the force of a train slamming into a stalled car. Finally, the epiphany really and truly strikes me: Holy crap, I had sex with a guy.

Shame. Lots of shame bombards me, as does complete and utter mortification.

My only hope is that I topped---because, as if doing it with another male isn't bad enough, it'd be about as humiliating as could be if I were in the girl's position---and that's not saying much.

Silence be damned, I'm getting out of here now. I quickly rip my hand out of his grasp, much like yanking off a Band-Aid. Then, not waiting to see whether he'll unconsciously reach for me again or wake up, I'm throwing the blankets off myself faster than the speed of light and bolting out of bed. Once safely on the ground, I chance a glance behind me to see…

Amazing. He's still snoozing away, though now he seems to be frowning slightly. Since he doesn't strike me as the type to sleep till noon, I'm assuming he's the type to sleep off hangovers.

Just my luck.

I exhale the hugest sigh of relief ever, and then take a quick scan around the room, searching for my clothes.

The first thing I find is one of my socks. I slide it on my right foot, and walk around the room carefully until I deduce that its partner is, in fact, gone. The window is open, so I have an unpleasant feeling that I know where it is.

I locate my boxers strewn carelessly on the floor at the end of the bed, and quickly adorn them. My pants are all the way by the door- it's closed and locked.

The thought, Well, he just couldn't wait to get me out of my pants, huh? crosses my mind before I'm able to stop it, and I simultaneously flinch and color red.

I can't find my shirt. I assume that it was also thrown out the window while he and I were, uh… in the throes of passion, meaning it has joined my one sock god-knows where.

Maybe a hobo found and made good use of them.

I snicker at the thought---quietly, of course---before creeping across the creaking floorboards. Then, before I lose my nerve, I quickly slink back to his side of the bed and snatch his discarded shirt. He's asleep. He won't need it. I, on the other hand… it's autumn. The weather is cold. I'm not going out there without a shirt!

Slipping on the shirt (it fits surprisingly well), I tiptoe back to the door. My hand grasps the doorknob, ensuring that I'll soon be free. Free to pretend this never happened. Free to forget, although I don't remember much, anyway. And even though I'm this close to escaping from this nightmare…

I take one last look back at my sleeping sex buddy. He's still dozing, though it seems as if some awareness is coming back to him. He's curled up, trying to stay warm- in my haste to escape, I threw the blankets completely off of both of us. Huddled up like that, his face scrunched in a childish pout, he really does look like a woman.

I turn and sigh, opening the door. I recall how soft his hair felt. Damn… he really is the girliest man I've ever seen. I didn't realize I'd said that out loud until a voice stopped me halfway out the door.

"Excuse me?"

The voice was his, obviously. It was an unexpected voice, soft, yet deep. On any other occasion, I might've found it pleasant. But now... it was a voice dripping with venom and murderous intent. I stiffen and pray that he's still partially asleep. Maybe he'll think I'm a hallucination and drift back off to Dreamland.

As if sensing my desperate inward pleas, he growled, "I'm awake, and I know you're there."

I unfreeze and emit a loud sigh. I'd been this close to escaping, but no, I just had to take one last look at him… I turn around slowly, knowing that now we'll have to talk about it. When I finally meet his eyes, I'm awestruck.

When asleep, he looks like a young girl, but when awake… his eyes are definitely his defining feature. They're a sharp silver color, and they cut you like steel. This guy has eyes that seem stuck on some sort of "badass" setting. Looking at those eyes, I find it hard to believe I ever thought he was a girl- though his hair looks girly no matter what he's doing.

Seemingly certain that I'll stay put, he finally moves his gaze to himself. He doesn't bother with embarrassment, and instead goes right to suspicion, looking between myself and his barren skin with wariness; his eyes narrowed even further when he took in the shirt I was wearing.

Silver Eyes gets out of bed and starts towards me… but only manages to hobble two feet when he crumples to the ground. "…Ow."

Now, this would've been the prime opportunity for me to run, but instead, I laugh. Not because his inability to walk is humorous, but because of why he can't walk. Clearly, it means that I was topping. After all, I didn't have to hobble around like a cripple. It may not mean much, but I still feel a small rush of pride come back to me.

The other guy gets up slowly, wincing in pain as he does so- I would feel sorry for him, but I'm too busy feeling prideful for having conquered him. He snarls at me, and all good feelings leave me. "Who are you, why the hell am I naked, and what the fuck have you done to me?"

If looks could kill, I would be long dead. I gulp. How to explain this… Well, I could go with the direct approach: "Hey, guy, the truth is, we got hammered last night and had sex!" Pwnage. Death. No respawn. Game over.

…Not trying the direct approach, it is. Next option is to lie: "I don't know! I don't know anything, I, uh… I just got here!" "No you didn't, you're wearing my shirt!" "So what, that doesn't prove anything!" More pwnage. More death.

Lying isn't gonna work, either. Seems like the best option would just be to run (since he obviously can't follow me, heh), but we seem to go to the same bar, and if we were to meet there again someday: "Hey… don't I know you?" "Ahh! N-no, I don't believe we've ever met!" "I could swear I've seen your face before…" "F-funny… I don't recognize yours at all!" "…Wait a minute, you're that guy!" "What?! No I'm no- Ahhhhhhh!" Complete and utter pwnage. Death to the highest degree. Big game over.

Strike three. And this batter is: So. Very. Out.

Fed up with waiting, Silver Eyes snarls at me again, "Well? Tell me!"

I would tell you, you crazy, violent man, you, but… I've got nothing.

Well… eff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *muy grande problemo- a very big problem
> 
> *Pwnage- a game term, basically meaning he'd get totally beaten up, or "owned"
> 
> *respawn- another game term, meaning after you're killed, you're brought back to life.
> 
>  
> 
> AN- And another chapter done! I had fun writing the little scenarios at the end here. Doesn't it seem like the kind of thing Gold would do (imagine how many ways he could escape from a problem, and envision his untimely demise; it's so weird, I love the thought of him imagining these things!)? The next chapter will contain a short conversation between our heroes, some making up between Gold and his lady, and… an unexpected reunion. Wait for it~!


	3. For thinking it would be so easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I'm back once more with another installment! Sorry that it took so long, folks. I haven't really been writing lately. Really. I've been reading more than anything. Either way, enjoy~!
> 
> Disclaimer: …iownnothingthereyougothat'sallyagottaknowbuhbyenow.

We stayed in that stare off for a good two minutes or so, him coiled and ready to strike, me ready to make like a banana and split.

Finally, though, he backs down. Sighing, his silver gaze falls to his---bare---feet. "We… did something bad, right?"

Resigned acceptance. Self-pity. I can work with this! Putting on my best "sorry-I-screwed-you" face, I bite my lip and nod. "…That's one way to put it."

He raises an eyebrow, and for a fleeting moment I swear I see the quirk of a smile, but it disappears the next instant. "You better have been just as drunk and out of control as I was last night, or I'll kick your ass."

Puh-lease. You won't be kicking anything anytime soon, cripple. Since I am not an idiot with a death wish, I push those rather-amusing thoughts to the back of my mind and give him a quick nod. "Yep. Totally drunk. In fact, I don't remember anything."

This is true. The last thing I remember is Crys screeching at me like a banshee before making a dramatic exit. After that, I took one too many trips down Alcohol Avenue.

His steely eyes bore into mine as he searches for a hint of a lie. Then, he sighs again before bringing a hand to his forehead and rubbing his temple. "Well then…"

And once again, we're in a staring contest. I don't think I've ever met a guy who looks you in the eye as much as this one does. I should be nervous, but for some reason, the tension seems to have dissipated, and now it's much more comfortable. Ya know, for a guy, he does have really pretty eyes…

"…about it."

I blink, frown, and then, just to show how stupid I am, ask, "Huh?"

There goes that suspicious brow of his again. And, to add insult to injury, he speaks next slowly in a monotone, as if I'm some kind of retard---he probably thinks I am. Great. "I said, since we both didn't mean it, we might as well just forget about it and go on with our lives. I mean, what are the chances that we'll meet again?"

Resisting the impulse to die of shock, I instead stutter out, "R-really?!" Is he seriously gonna make it this easy for me? I mean, that would be like a gift from God. And I don't even believe in God.

He nods slowly and begins to limp over to where his boxers are hanging haphazardly over a chair. "Really."

I think, You are an angel and I love you. Platonically, of course. I feel the need to say that, because, well, saying I love you right after we slept together… But that was completely the alcohol's fault, anyway. I say, "Cool. That, uh, makes things much easier for the both of us, right?"

He nods and continues his quest for clothing.

An awkward silence hangs in the air and neither of us say anything until finally, he's standing in front of me, clothed in everything but his shirt. Which I have.

We both stare for a moment at the offending article, as if expecting it to come to life and give an explanation as to why I'm wearing it instead of him. Well, I'm staring at it like that, anyway. He redirected his questioning gaze my way a few seconds ago.

I squirm and wait for the inevitable.

"…I need my shirt back."

What? No, "Why are you in my shirt, perv?" No awkward questions that my only answers to are completely lame? Gawking, I respond, "Huh?" He glares, and I quickly tack on, "I mean… okay?"

I slip out of his shirt and swiftly hand it to him. He has it on in a matter of seconds.

We eye each other for a moment before he hesitantly extends a hand. "…Silver."

"Say what?" I got distracted by those pretty eyes again. Dammit. And I need to stop thinking of them as pretty!

"My name. It's Silver."

What are the odds, right? I smile. "It, uh, definitely fits! Me, I'm Gold! While admittedly this wasn't the best way to meet, it's still good to---properly---meet you."

He shifts, and the small smile from before makes an unexpected comeback. "Whatever. Just go."

My grin covers over half my face, and I give a salute---"Yes, sir!"---before racing out the door, ignoring his semi-outraged splutters.

You Level Up! for escaping completely unscathed from your---sexual---encounter with a violent member of the same sex!

My smile widens, but I manage to hold back its full mirth until I'm outside. There, I unleash my laughter, and it echoes in the street loudly.

…and as a Bonus, you've gone completely Insane!

I laugh harder.

Two hours and a nice hot shower later, I arrive at Crystal's door, fully intent on getting back in her good graces---and back in other places, as well. A few brisk knocks and she opens the door, a small frown adorning her lips.

Her expression changes from mild annoyance to puzzlement when she sees me. "Gold? What ar---mmph!"

That, my friends, is the sound of me interrupting her mid-sentence with a kiss that, if nothing else, makes my day.

You know how all those sappy---and crappy---romance novels always describe kisses? The heroine always just melts into it. That's what Crys does when we're canoodling. Really, if I could describe it in a not smutty-romance-novella way, I would.

But it's kind of hard to, when one moment she's fighting like a demon, and the next she's responding with such fervor that a bystander would think we hadn't seen each other in months, instead of just one day.

I smile against her parted lips and steer her forward enough so that we're both inside, and shut the door with my foot. Then, I back off and let her breathe.

I also lock the door.

After she catches her breath, Crys pouts up at me. "Why are you here, Gold?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. One moment, she's trying to cram her tongue down my throat, and the next, she's acting all haughty and implying I shouldn't be here? Damn fickle, difficult woman.

Sometimes, I think Crystal's bipolar.

"I'm here…" I say slowly, "…to patch things up with my girlfriend. My girlfriend of five years, I might add. I mean, come on, Crys, are you really gonna end things over one stupid little incident?"

She averts her eyes. "…That's exactly what you said last time."

"I know. Because it was the same exact situation last time. You blew a gasket over one little insignificant thing."

I realize the moment the words are out that I've said the wrong thing, but unfortunately, clamping my hands over my mouth---which spoke completely without my brain's permission---doesn't really help anything.

Her eyes have narrowed dangerously, and her lips have gone into a thin, frowny line. "I blew a gasket? Over something insignificant?"

Well, bud, you've already dug your own grave. Might as well finish what you started. Who knows? Maybe you'll get out, yet. "What I mean is, to you, it's important, I get that, but to me? We've been together five years, Crystal! Just because another woman catches my eye every now and then doesn't mean I'll just up and leave you!"

Her stricken face tells me I've hit the nail on the head.

So, instead of yelling at her more, I sigh, and touch my forehead to hers. "That's what you thought, right? Silly girl. You're the only one that I want, Crys."

A shallow intake of breath. "R-really?"

I smile lightly and give her a chaste peck. "Really."

Now that she's cooled down, I fully intend to finish what I started. So, I kiss her again, long and hard.

She can clearly see my intent, and once we've broken apart for air, she mumbles, "…Now?"

I nod and steer her towards her bedroom as if on autopilot while an image of red hair and breathy, masculine moans fills my head.

Dammit, man! Get out of my head! Don't make me remember those things! Especially not now!

The thoughts stick to me like glue, and against my will, I can feel something stirring. "Oh, yes," I mutter. "Right now."

Crys shrugs and smiles lightly. She may not say it, but I can see in her eyes she's just as eager as I am.

I'd like to say our "lovemaking" was gentle and such, but I'd totally be lying. We stopped being gentle ages ago.

Truthfully, we screw like rabbits---or horny devils. Whichever depiction you prefer.

In fact, I'd say I was probably even a little rougher than usual. I couldn't get the fragmented memories of Silver out of my mind until I'd spent a good ten minutes lapping---and sucking and biting---her breasts.

Crystal, at least, once she got past the initial discomfort, was quite pleased.

And I was probably pounding her into the mattress a bit harsher than usual, as well.

But any guilt I'd might've felt about going a little too hard on Crys was erased when, afterward, she asked if maybe we could do that more often.

About a week passed, and truthfully, I'd practically forgotten about my onetime sexual companion. After all, I'd had a full week of mind-blowing sex with my surprisingly-kinky girlfriend of five years. Not to mention, we hadn't argued once. About anything.

Life was good.

Then, Crystal got a call from her friend Yellow.

Now, a quick note about Yellow: I've actually only met the girl a couple times, even though she's Crys' best friend. That's because she lives really far away. Like, a whole day's drive far away. She's really sweet, really naïve, really blonde, and---even though she's technically older than both me and Crys---she looks like she's perpetually stuck at age twelve.

And she's engaged.

Anyways, she called up Crystal about three days ago squealing about her newly fiancée'd status, and they agreed to meet up Friday. That's today, by the way.

Yellow's spent the past day driving down here, along with another friend and that friend's boyfriend. At least, that's what I've gotten from Crystal's babbling. Her exact words were something along the lines of, "Omigosh, Gold! Yellow's engaged! And she's coming down here along with a friend she wants me to meet! We're gonna plan her wedding together! Plus that friend is bringing along a boyfriend---well, Yellow just called him a 'male friend', but what else could he be? So, will you come with me? To meet them?"

Yeah, sure Crys, I'd love to, I told her.

I regret that. She's spent the past three days talking about this rendezvous nonstop. And really, she only wants me along so I can somehow make it easier for her to befriend Yellow's mystery friend. I mean what's she gonna say? "Oh, you have a boyfriend? So do I! We'll be best friends for sure!"? Yeah, no.

Either way, she woke me up this morning at eight so I could get ready and prepped for my "boyfriend meets boyfriend" role as icebreaker.

We were supposed to meet at the Dragon Den Café at ten, but she dragged me out there a whole twenty minutes earlier.

That's why I had time to, in addition to ordering a cup of coffee and a doughnut, sit and stare out the window, waiting impatiently.

Life was, admittedly, mundane. But still good.

But, gazing out the window tiredly, I could see a very familiar face approaching, along with Yellow's familiar bobbing blonde ponytail.

…Oh, fuck.

Yes, just one minute ago, I could honestly admit life was good.

When Silver walks into this café, life will become very, very bad.

Dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Level Up- a staple of Role-Playing-Games; basically, after gaining enough experience (either through battling or completing missions, ect.), you gain a level, and get stronger/faster/smarter/ect.
> 
> *Bonus- something you get in addition to what you would've gotten regardless. Like, getting an item from a monster to go along with the experience you got for defeating it.
> 
> *Insane- call it a status ailment; it's basically the same as "confusion", where you lose control and do random things. So, when Gold says he's gone insane as a BONUS, it's a joke.
> 
> AN- Well? Was it worth waiting for? Next chapter will contain, in addition to Gold and Silver being obligatorily put in each other's company, the return of someone who I'm willing to bet none of you even knew appeared yet! ;) Look forward to it!


End file.
